November 8
by Ms. Storyteller
Summary: The story of how Mia spent her November 8th. Takes place right after Princess in the Spotlight, and chronicles her date with Kenny and her sleep over at Lilly's afterward. This story is also a Mia/Michael romance.


Saturday, November 8, 3:00 pm  
  
You've heard it here first. Before the Post, before Twenty Four/Seven, before Teen Beat. I, Amelia Thermapolis, am going on a date. Yes, that's right, an actual date. He's going to pick me up at my house in one hour (well, okay, technically, his mom is going to pick me up, but we're 14, and not everyone has a limo), and then we're going to the Village Cinema to watch the Japanese anime marathon.  
  
So, sure, this isn't exactly how I'd imagined my first date would be. Somehow I pictured more---excitement, romance, anything. I just feel kind of.bored with the whole thing. It's like I'm going out with Lilly, except maybe even less interesting because I know there's a slim- to- none chance we'll end up on the subway interviewing the homeless population about the staggering ineffectiveness of the welfare system.  
  
I haven't even bothered to dress up, not that it would make any difference. Try as I might, no outfit or make-up on this planet could hide the fact that I have no breasts, insane, triangularly shaped hair and feet the size of a pro-basketball player's. Not that I even attempted to get dressed up in the first place.  
  
OH! This is awful! We all know why I'm not interested in going out today.  
  
Reasons I'm Not Interested in First REAL Date  
  
Date is with Kenny: Biology lab partner, Computer Club member and all around nice guy. Not, however, someone who makes my knees quiver. Not someone like Michael Moscovitz, my best friend's brother: he of the sharp intellect and well-built chest.  
  
We're going to a Japanese anime marathon. I haven't even watched ONE of those cartoons, so I really can't imagine sitting through an entire marathon.  
  
My 6'5'' tall, 300 pound bodyguard Lars is coming with us. Somehow, my dream date never included a giant Slavic man with a Glock beneath his jacket walking five paces behind us the whole time.  
  
His mom is picking us up. And while Lilly would say this is very superficial and "Lana" of me to complain about, when you think about it, it's perfectly logical. The only two guys I've ever fantasized about dating were Josh Richter (boooooo!) and Michael Moscovitz (yahhhhh!). Both are seniors, and therefore able to drive. So really, an expectation of transportation is not so much shallow as it is a natural manifestation of pre-existing notions on proper dating etiquette. (Take THAT, Lilly Moscovitz!)  
  
HE'S NOT MICHAEL MOSCOVITZ! Why, why, why, oh WHY can't I be going out with Michael?  
  
  
  
  
  
1 Saturday, November 8, later, Bedroom  
  
Wow, was that a disaster! The whole time, Kenny kept talking about Josie and the Pussycats, and how much I looked like Josie (which I totally don't-okay, I've never seen the cartoon, but I've watched the movie at the Moscovitzs' house, and Lilly and I were throwing popcorn at the screen screaming about the hypocrisy of making a film based on a morally corrupt entertainment industry and their power over the naïve youth of America [Lana Weinberger, is your nose itching?], while at the same time, cashing in on that very idea.). I guess I should have been flattered, and I was for a while, but soon it got boring.  
  
He didn't make me the laugh at all, and he didn't have that nice, clean, soapy smell that Michael always has. Not that I have many chances to smell Michael. Just when he's helping me understand Algebra during Gifted and Talented (aka study hall).  
  
Plus, I was forced to endure 5 hours of Japanese anime. And while I can appreciate the entire anime genre on PRINCIPLE, actually watching them is an entirely different story. The plots are weird, there is no music with ENGLISH lyrics and there is absolutely no dancing. Everyone knows entertainment is more entertaining when someone is dancing around the screen.  
  
Finally, when the date was over, we were standing in front of the door to my flat, and Kenny actually went, "Mia, can I kiss you?"  
  
Ewwwwww.yuck, yuck, yuck. Somehow, the thought of Kenny's lips on mine was about as appealing as the thought of kissing the frogs we were supposed to dissect in Biology class. Why did he have to ask me? Why couldn't he have just leaned in and DONE it? That way, it would have been done and over with and I wouldn't have to say no to him. I would have just been some innocent bystander, like when Josh Richter kissed me. For once, it was working AGAINST me that the guy I was going out with was a gentleman.  
  
What was I supposed to do? He was looking at me so hopefully, kind of like Fat Louie when he wants to be fed. And look what happens when I forget to do that, Fat Louie eats one of my socks and he ends up in the emergency room. I couldn't-- just couldn't-- be the reason for Kenny ingesting anything from his laundry basket. I realized my logic was a little off toward the end there, but all of those thoughts went through my head in like three seconds.  
  
So I went, "O.okay."  
  
Then he leaned in and I closed my eyes and did my best to imagine it was Michael kissing me, and we were sitting on the shore of some beach somewhere. But when it finally happened, I couldn't get the picture in my mind, because Kenny's fingers on my arm were short and chubby, while I know Michael's fingers are long and thin from all the time he spends playing his guitar.  
  
Don't get me wrong, the second kiss of my life was like WAY better than my first one, but it still wasn't anything like Tina's romance novels. It lasted only a few seconds, and thankfully his tongue didn't venture out of his mouth. Actually neither of our mouths opened the whole time. Just as he pulled away, his mom honked her horn from where she was waiting in the street. Kenny kind of grinned bashfully and blushed all red, then said "See you later" and left.  
  
I looked over at Lars. He was faced away from me, and I couldn't be sure, but I thought I saw him trying not to smile.  
  
"Come on," I said, all defensively.  
  
He turned back to me, and made sure I got in my house okay. I ignored the inquiring looks of my mom and Mr. G, and went right into my room to write all this stuff down.  
  
In a few minutes, I'm going to head over to Lilly's house, where I plan to spill my guts about my date, and then watch cheesy movies and make snide remarks at the screen. Maybe Michael will be there. Well, of course he'll be there, it's not like he has a life. But maybe he'll come in Lilly's room and forget to wear his shirt. There's always hope.  
  
  
  
1.1 Saturday, November 8, Even later, Lilly's Bathroom  
  
OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OHMYGOD! OHMIGOD! I've done the stupidest thing! I'm so embarrassed! I can never, ever, ever, EVER face Michael Moscovitz ever again!!!! I just have no control over my big mouth! And instead of just stopping the conversation, I kept going and going, and the whole thing was like a train wreck at the end.  
  
Breathe in through my nose, out from my mouth, in from nose, out from mouth, princess in duress.PRINCESS HUMILIATED! Okay, well, the whole thing started when Lilly and I were sitting on the floor in her room. I had just finished telling her about my super-boring date with Kenny, when Michael walked in and mumbled something about looking for Pavlov, his sheltie. He looked around a little, and then instead of leaving, he sat down across from me on the carpet.  
  
Lilly just gave him a mildly dirty look that only siblings can give one another, then continued talking like he wasn't even there. Talking about MY LOVE LIFE if front of her brother, whom I've loved.oh, only since I first saw him when I was in kindergarten and he was in third grade. The last thing I wanted him to know was that I went out on a crappy date.  
  
First of all, though he doesn't believe in "clubs" or "extracurricular activities" aside from the Computer Club, I know tons of girls think Michael is a total Baldwin. He could go out with practically any girl in any of the four classes, except the cheerleaders. How mortifying would it be to have him know that the only date I can even get is with a guy I don't like?  
  
Second of all, Michael and Kenny are in the Computer Club together, so they're friends. So there is a chance that Michael might TELL Kenny all the stuff I say, and even though I doubt he would do anything like that, there is always the chance. It's probably part of that secret guy code all males have with one another. The best example of that was when Michael and Lars shared those looks with one another any time I talked about going on dates. Granted it was only the two times.like EVER.but both times Michael and Lars were there, and BOTH times, they shared that insufferable look. What does that mean?  
  
Lilly, however, didn't see anything wrong with this plan, and continued to dissect the Kenny Dating Debacle right in front of her brother.  
  
Lilly: So he asked you to kiss him, and you said yes?  
  
Me: (sheepishly) Yes.  
  
Michael: (makes strangled noise in the back of his throat)  
  
Lilly and I look over at him quickly. I thought he was choking or something!  
  
Lilly: (sarcastically) Did you swallow a bug or something Michael? (then to me) Did you want to kiss him?  
  
Me: Noooo.it was so weird!!!  
  
Michael looked very pleased then, his consternation from a minute ago changed into a bright smile. I couldn't figure out why, until I realized that he had something to tease Kenny about at school on Monday. Oh boy, this was not a good idea.  
  
Lilly: Do you want to go out with him again?  
  
Me: I don't knoooow. I mean, he's nice, and kind, and pretty cute.  
  
Lilly: But if he asked out tomorrow, what would you say?  
  
Me: (sighs loudly) Probably yes, just because I wouldn't want to say no to him. I would feel too bad.  
  
Lilly then decided that the only way to see what I truly felt about Kenny was to play that game where someone says a word, and then you say the first thing that pops into your head. I figured it was worth a shot, and at least it would get her off the subject of kissing in front of Michael. Here's how the game went:  
  
Lilly: Horse.  
  
Me: Dad.  
  
He rides horses and owns a stable, after all.  
  
Lilly: Cow.  
  
Me: Milk.  
  
Lilly: Home.  
  
Me: New York.  
  
Lilly: Painting.  
  
Me: Mom.  
  
By then we had a whole quick rhythm going, and I wasn't even thinking about the answers, just letting my subconscious reply, like Lilly said.  
  
Lilly: Tina.  
  
Me: Romance novels.  
  
Lilly: Josh.  
  
Me: Loser.  
  
Lilly: Lana.  
  
Me: Ice cream cone.  
  
This got me a snort of appreciative laughter from Michael, who was watching us with interest.  
  
Lilly: Norman.  
  
Me: Feet.  
  
Lilly: Lilly.  
  
Me: Genius.  
  
Lilly smiled at this, even though she claims to hate to be called a genius, because that stereotypes her by only one aspect of her personality.  
  
Lilly: Kenny.  
  
Me: Boring.  
  
Hmm.well that answers that question. But instead of stopping at this epiphany, Lilly kept going.  
  
Lilly: Michael.  
  
Me: Perfect.  
  
Oops. I might have gotten away with that little slip of conscious, if my eyes hadn't grown really wide and I hadn't slapped my hand over my mouth. I looked at Lilly, who was wearing the same satisfied look that her psychoanalyst parents, the Drs. Moscovitz, always have when a patient finally makes a break through. Very quickly, I dared to sneak a peek at Michael. He had this smile on his face that was somewhere in between happiness, amusement and complete confusion.  
  
I could feel my face getting redder and redder. I had to get myself out of this!  
  
Lilly, then, all loud and obnoxious, went, "You think my brother's perfect?" She sounded mildly disgusted.  
  
In my head, I tried to find a way to rationalize it. I could say I was talking about another Michael. I mean, I could have said I was thinking about Michael Jackson, or Michael Jordan, or Michael Christianson, the boy that sits in front of me in Algebra. But at the time, I couldn't think of a single other Michael. When I tried, the only name that kept going through my mind was "Moscovitz, Moscovitz, Moscovitz."  
  
It was like some crazy Yiddish folksong or something.  
  
So instead, I licked my lips that were really dry, and sort of stuttered out, "Yeah, you know, because he's.he's.really smart, an.and nice and funny."  
  
I kept my eyes totally focused on my fake nails. My face had never been redder in my entire existence, and I knew if I looked up, the first person I would see would have to be Michael. I could just imagine him laughing at how a stupid freshman could ever think she had a chance with someone so intelligent and cool.  
  
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lilly cross her arms, a determined look on her face. I hate that look. That is the look she gets when she plans on never, ever letting something drop. That was the same look she had when I told her she was being crazy for boycotting Ho's Deli.  
  
"Someone being smart and funny doesn't make them PERFECT. You said PERFECT, Mia."  
  
OH MY GOSH.I could beat up Lilly sometimes!!!!  
  
I jerked my head up at her, and she just had this defiant look on her face. It was actually MICHAEL who tried to save me. He was like, "Lilly, we really don't have to talk about this right now."  
  
She just shook her head and went, "No, this has to get done NOW. There are too many things that have to be said, and I am tired of you walking around this house like a crazy vagabond: always moving from one room to the other looking all desolate. You two can't get your acts together, so I'm going to have to be the catalyst."  
  
What the heck was she talking about? What things have to be said? What is a vagabond? Why was Lilly doing this to me? I mean, she's always straightforward and blunt, but she's never purposely embarrassed me before. I don't get it! Sometimes having a best friend with a 170 IQ, psychoanalysts for parents and a hot older brother is just a pain.  
  
"Mia." Lilly said in this really demanding voice that sounded suspiciously like Grandmere's.  
  
I gave her what I hoped was my most pitiful face, and she sighed loudly and went, "Okay. Michael, get out of here."  
  
I still hadn't looked at Michael yet, so I didn't know if he was leaving until I heard him get up and walk out the door. As soon as it was shut, Lilly asked, "What do you think of my brother?"  
  
What was I supposed to say? I can't exactly tell my best friend that I've loved her brother since before I could even SPELL love, and that one of the most entertaining parts about sleeping over at her house is when Michael comes down for breakfast and he isn't wearing a shirt and his hair is all messy.  
  
But Lilly, she's sneaky, and she brought out the secret weapon.  
  
"Mia, tell the truth, say you swear, best friends always share."  
  
That was the chant we used to say to one another when we wanted the truth. We swore in fourth grade that if one of us said that, the other could not lie, or we wouldn't be friends anymore. We haven't used it lately, but I guess this was as good a time as any for Lilly to pull it out.  
  
I sighed really loudly, more to let her know how horrible this was than because it actually WAS horrible. I started thinking about it, and telling Lilly might not be as bad as I was making it out to be. And really, if I could pick anyone in the world to tell, it would be her. So finally, I just explained.  
  
Reasons I Like Michael Moscovitz  
  
  
  
He danced with me at the Cultural Diversity Dance after Josh Richter had made me feel stupid and ugly. He didn't make fun of me at all; he just danced with me, and gave me my first real slow dance with a boy.  
  
He helps me with my Algebra homework every day during G and T, even though he doesn't have to, and he explains it way better than Mr. G does. The only reason I am getting a D in the class is because he's teaching me to be more organized and set up my columns better.  
  
He smells really, really good. He smells clean and fresh, like Ivory soap. While boys like Josh Richter smell like they take showers in Dakkar Noir, and Kenny has some aftershave that smells like you're walking deep in the woods, Michael just smells nice and clean, and it makes me lightheaded.  
  
He's really smart, and he could get into any college he wants to. He's ambitious, and his webzine, Crackhead, is revolutionary. Because of his latest commentary, I will never look at M&Ms the same way again.  
  
I can talk to him about anything. I felt comfortable telling him all about Mr. G and my mom, when I could barely tell Lilly, and I couldn't tell Josh AT ALL. He can keep a conversation going, and we can just talk for hours, because he's funny and quick-witted.  
  
That was pretty much where I stopped. I didn't tell her about my fascination with his chest, because I thought that it was best if we took baby steps. You know what the funny thing was? She didn't seem grossed out at all by it. In fact, she was actually giggling at some stuff! At around reason number three, she had passed me the popcorn, and so we were just munching on food while I spilled my guts about her brother.  
  
It was so great! It made me think "Why was I so afraid to tell her?" I mean, she's my best friend. And it felt like we were having a girl talk, something Lilly and I have definitely not done in a LONG time, since she has been busy French kissing Boris and making my cousin an underwear model, and I have been, well, a princess.  
  
Then, Lilly did the STUPIDEST thing. We were having fun and talking, and then she went, "We should tell Michael! If he finds out this is how you feel, he'll."  
  
I was like, "No way!" And I totally cut off what she was going to say, because I know what she was going to say. She was going to say that if I told him, he would get a kick out of it, a good laugh. God, how mean is that? To play with my feelings like that?  
  
So I said, "You can't tell your brother any of this! You have to promise!"  
  
Then when she did, I told her I had to go to the bathroom. I grabbed my diary and opened the door to leave, when I saw Michael standing RIGHT THERE! You could tell he heard everything I told Lilly by the shocked expression on his face.  
  
Well, I ran in to the bathroom, and that's where I am now.  
  
Oh no, there's someone knocking on the bathroom door. It's Michael! I told him to go away, and that I don't want to talk to him. I'm sitting on the ground though, so I yelled it up.  
  
Now, the knocking has gotten lower, as if Michael has sat down on the carpet on the other side of the door. That is another reason why I like him so much. He is talking to me through a door, even though he knows there is no lock, just because I haven't invited him in.  
  
He's telling me that's he shouldn't have eavesdropped on Lilly's and my conversation after we kicked him out of the room. Oh my gosh! He did hear! I am never showing my face in this house again!  
  
He's asking to come in now. I just told him he could, so more later.  
  
  
  
1.1.1 Saturday November 8, Waay later, Lilly's Bedroom  
  
  
  
AHHH! Oh my god! Oh my GOD!!! I love Lilly! I love that she decided to be a catalyst! This is the best day of my entire life!  
  
When Michael came in the bathroom, he saw me sitting on the ground, so he sat down too, right in front of me. Then, he proceeded to tell me that he liked me just as much as I like him!!!!! AHH!!!! I'm not joking! He said he'd liked me for a long time, and he was always too shy to tell me.  
  
And then, get this, he said, "Thermapolis.I mean Mia." there was a long pause there. I think I like it when he calls me Thermapolis, because nobody else does that, and so it's like his special name for me or something.  
  
Anyway, he finished off his sentence with, "Can I kiss you?"  
  
AHH! That is the second time I was asked that in the same day. Of course, this time I wanted Michael to kiss me more than anything, except that I was so nervous, I couldn't say it! I just nodded my head a little.  
  
When I did that, he gave me the sweetest smile. I swear, I was glad I was sitting, because if I wasn't, then my legs surely would have given out and I would have fallen to the floor! I've decided that is another reason I like him so much. As it was, he made my face blush really red and my whole body start to shake.  
  
Michael must have seen that I was freaking out, because he took one of my hands between both of his. Then he turned it over, and kissed me, right in the middle of my palm!!  
  
Oh my god, I can hardly write for being so excited. Right after that, he brushed some hair out of my eyes and moved his hand to the back of my neck to bring my face up to meet his. Then, Michael Moscovitz became the first boy to slow dance with me, AND French kiss me.  
  
And it was JUST like Tina's books described it. Even though we weren't at the beach or some other romantic place, it was perfect. His fingers were long and thin and magical as they rubbed my neck. His lips didn't jam into mine, like Josh Richter's did. Instead he was nice and gentle, just like Kenny, except he seemed way less nervous than Kenny was, and way better at it.  
  
We were sitting on the floor of his bathroom, but the whole thing was still perfect, perfect, perfect. Perfect, just like Michael. 


End file.
